


Our Pledge

by FizzyCustard



Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Knights - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Middle Ages, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 00:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FizzyCustard/pseuds/FizzyCustard
Summary: Baron de Merville is intent on marrying his son off to another wealthy Lord’s daughter from a neighbouring village. However, Raymond’s heart has already been captured by you. And he will stop at nothing to protect you, pledge himself to you and get you away from the village where your life is in danger.





	Our Pledge

**Author's Note:**

> This story will begin running along the same lines as my original (and first) Raymond x Reader series. However, this story is a stand alone plot and will only take the basic background of the original series to establish its own plot.

France, 1209

Your daily rendezvous with Raymond kept a spark alight within you. Each day and he made it his main objective to visit you, both of you sharing in forbidden passion in the dairy barn where you worked. Either at dawn or sun down and the two of you would find yourselves in a pile of sweaty limbs across a bale of hay or resting vertically against a wooden pillar. It did not matter the time or the position, as long as you were one. 

It seemed as if every time you gave yourself to Raymond, and a further piece of you was shedding away. These pieces were no longer your possession but his. And you were happy to give them to him. After all, he had saved you. On the night that you had been overcome in your terror of where the feelings you had for Raymond were leading, and you left the village. Out on the road that night and you had been captured by two outlaws, and nearly froze to death in the sub zero temperatures. Then you had heard his voice on the air, threatening the men who had dared to harm you. Those men were then no more. You literally owed this man your life, and you were happy to give it. 

However, it had now been four weeks since your relationship with Raymond had taken such a fierce turn. Finally, you had given in to his advances and acted on that rising lust within you. But now you were not sure as to where you stood in Raymond’s eyes. Were you just a means to sexual gratification? Or did he feel something deeper for you? 

Rumours had spread through the de Merville estate that Raymond’s father was intent on pledging him to the daughter of a neighbouring Lord in order to establish tougher foundations between the families. 

“Raymond?” you whispered, lay in his arms on a bale of hay with his cloak over you for warmth. 

“Mmm?” he replied thoughtfully, his lips turning up into a content smile. 

“Is it true what the maids are saying?” you asked simply, pulling yourself from his embrace and getting up to re-dress. 

Raymond narrowed his eyes, feeling the anger burn in his chest, and he instantly knew what you were referring to. You should have never have had to find out this way; he wanted to tell you himself and reassure you that such a marriage would never happen. “What did they tell you?” Raymond growled. 

The realisation of this situation hit you hard, like the kick of a horse’s hooves to your stomach. That nausea rose from your stomach and you couldn’t help but reach out to steady yourself against the wooden pillar of the barn. Your right hand ghosted your stomach and you began to weep for the legitimate children you would never have with Raymond. Even if you were now with child as a result of you lying together every day, that child would never carry Raymond’s name. In this time, all children born out of wedlock were bastards, and deserved to be tarred with a hefty label and scorn all their lives. 

Raymond rose from the hay and wound himself around you from behind, holding your weakened body against his. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled. 

“We sneak around as though love is disgusting. That’s if what you feel for me even is love,” you sobbed. 

The whole situation before you was absolute ludacris. This village had been your home now for two and a half months after a malfunction with the machinery in a government-owed lab where you worked, had sent you hurtling through time. But you were thankful to the top secret government-operated time travelling programmes because otherwise you would never have fallen in love as hard as you had. Raymond had scared you upon meeting him, terrified you in fact. Now and you felt as if your whole future needed to revolve around him. 

Raymond whispered your name and buried his face back in your hair, the tip of his long nose drifting up your neck and then you felt his lips, followed by a tickle of his stubble. 

“You can’t even tell me you love me,” you cried out, pulling away from him sharply. “I never intended to be your sex toy, Raymond!” You turned around, looking up into his eyes. “If all I am to you is something to be ruled and then discarded then you’ve come to the wrong place.” 

A dark shadow drifted across Raymond’s eyes. Angrily he dragged at your hip, pulling you flush against him and he kissed you hard. His right hand twisted in your hair as his left held you tight against him. 

“Raymond, stop it!” you cried out, pushing him away. 

“No,” he demanded, holding you, his grip firm around your arms to stop you flailing against him. 

You continued fighting, until you felt that grief hit you hard and you succumb to sobs again. And as you cried, bearing your heart against the man you loved, his hold on you lessened. “My love,” he whispered. “It will only ever be you. Believe in that. Only ever you.” 

***  
Could you trust in Raymond’s words? Was it true that it would only ever be you that would be in his heart? Could you trust that he would fight to be with you? Or would he give in to his father’s wishes and marry to keep the peace? That wasn’t Raymond. Keeping the peace had never been Raymond de Merville’s style. 

Your meetings with Raymond continued, until one night you were nowhere to be found within the estate and surrounding village. And it was no coincidence that this was also the evening to welcome one of Baron de Merville’s allies, who had just so happened to bring his daughter along for the journey. 

Raymond was beside himself with fear and also anger, immediately jumping to the conclusion that you had tried to leave again. Even Etienne, the kind carpenter of the village, whom you lived with, couldn’t give Raymond any idea as to your whereabouts. 

Henri, one of Raymond’s junior knights, approached his Commander. “Sir Raymond, your father is requesting your presence immediately. Our guests have arrived and the preparations for the feast are underway…”

Henri found himself cut off. 

“Fuck all of it!” Raymond shouted. 

The young, blond haired boy, who was still in training straightened his back and looked up at his Commander. “If you’re looking for her, she’s at the river. I saw her but an hour ago.” Everyone in the village were aware of yours and Raymond’s love affair, but no one dared mention their knowledge of it. 

Raymond never said another word and raced towards the river which led out of the village. He dodged trees, crunched through fresh snow and watched as the moon began to rise higher above the woodland. Until he heard the steady flow of the river. His silver blue eyes surveyed the area, until he saw a short, hooded figure standing on the closest bank. The way you stood with your right hip turned ever so lightly upwards, and the tip of your small nose, which peeped out from beneath your hood. He knew it was you. 

You remained with your eyes glued to the flow of the river, the white swirls of the moon’s reflection dancing across it, looking like paints merging. Nature had always fascinated you. It was beautiful, and here, in this time, there was far more woodland, fields and hills than you’d ever seen before. None of it had been tarnished and defiled by the modern, concrete jungle and towering skylines. 

Nature is beautiful; people aren’t. 

You heard footfalls behind you, and whilst a bolt of fear stabbed at you, something told you who it was. And as you turned, you saw the moon highlighting the contours of his sharp features. Those features you had come to know so well and had traced many times with your lips and fingertips. A lot of women you knew back in your own time of the twenty first century would never have found Raymond handsome, but to you, you had been attracted to him from the very beginning of your time in France, 1209. He was masculine, dominant, strong. All typical traits of a man which you were attracted to. That instinct of needing a provider and protector had won out in you. 

Raymond approached you slowly and stood at your side, never saying a word. You heard him sigh, and you watched as his breath caught on the wind and drifted away, disappearing. You had never noticed the chill of the mid-winter air, but now it seemed to wrap itself around you and begin to prod your skin like needles. 

“I know who the guests are, Raymond,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the water before you. If you had of looked up into his eyes, you would have succumbed to tears again. “I can’t stop you from marrying whoever you wish to, or who your father wants you to.” 

“My father is nothing to me,” Raymond growled. “He is my father in name only, other than that, I shall not follow his advice or wishes.” 

You smiled, thinking back to your own father whom you missed dearly. And your mother. Both of them had always encouraged you to live true to yourself, however, you had still tried to merge with society. “My parents always told me to live my life how I saw fit, but I still tried to do what everyone else wanted. People expected me to be married by a certain age, have children, and deep down, I didn’t want that until I was ready. I couldn’t just marry anyone for the sake of marrying.” 

Raymond turned to you. His voice was soft and tender. “Will you do me the honour of marrying me?” he asked. 

You felt air catch so tight in your throat and you whispered his name. Tears fell down your cheeks. “We can’t,” you said. “Your father…”

“Fuck my father!” Raymond shouted. 

You placed your hand against Raymond’s chest and looked up into those eyes you loved so dearly. “You know my answer. You’ve always known it. But we can’t. You marrying someone below your own social status is forbidden.”

“And so is giving your body to them before marriage, but I have already trod that ground, my love. There is no turning back from this.” 

“I want nothing more than to marry you, have children with you and for us to grow old together.” 

“Then say yes, and fight with me. We can leave here, begin a new life. You have nothing to lose.” 

***  
The barn was cold that evening, and even the cows, goats and horses seemed to be struggling, neighing and calling out. But you couldn’t care less in that moment as you made love to Raymond. He was over you, inside you, moving back and forth. His movements were slow and deep, as if he were savouring you so intently, knowing this would be the last time you would be together in such a beautiful moment. 

“Marry me, my love,” Raymond whispered, his breath almost lost in his pleasure. He continued moving against you, your rhythm synchronised. 

“My answer has always been yes,” you gasped. 

Raymond smiled and groaned, closing his eyes as the waves intensified. His movements gathered momentum and he spilled, kissing you as he came. Once he rode out his climax, Raymond rested his forehead against yours. “I am yours. I pledge myself to you,” he told you. 

You took Raymond in your arms, holding him against your chest. Your lips traced along the scar at his temple, which curled downward and then up to just below his right eye. 

Raymond closed his eyes, concentrating on your sweet scent and the sensation of his heart gradually returning to its normal beat. Contentment and joy filled his chest, but then the brutal and hard truth began to filter through, devouring all the happiness. Baron de Merville would never allow his son to marry a ‘commoner’ of the village. Raymond, from birth, had always been expected to marry a woman of high status. Love was never a consideration in issues of finances and alliances between neighbouring villages and towns. It was Raymond’s duty to continue on the name of de Merville through the conception of high society heirs. 

“Where I come from, and it’s almost unknown now for arranged marriages,” you told Raymond, your hand curling around his head and massaging his hair through your fingers. “I only came close to marrying once, but it was for social expectation. You may not have arranged marriages anymore in my time, but there’s still expectation on you to be married and have children by a certain age. Then you’re something to be pitied.” 

Raymond looked up at you, his eyes full of question and concern for you. “I grew up believing that women are just a commodity to men, a means for release of tensions and then to continue the family name. Only a few men ever realise in their lives that love is stronger than the bonds of father and son, and the bonds to a family name.”

You kissed your dear Raymond and rose over him, straddling him and began a second round of love making where you set the pace. With Raymond at your mercy, in such a state of vulnerability beneath you, his groans becoming louder as you deepened your movements, you knew you would never love anyone any more passionately as you did him. 

Raymond let you keep the pace going, allowing you to dominate him. His head rested back, and you could see him swallowing harder, his climax approaching so quickly. The faster you thrust against him and you could feel your own pleasure rising. 

Riding out both of your climaxes, you gripped Raymond’s hand in your own and whispered, “I am yours.” 

Your pledges were sealed. 

You reluctantly parted from Raymond a short while later, kissing him one last time. A gentle snow flurry fell around you both as the night drew in. 

“We shall be away from here. Give me a day or two in order to make arrangements, and we will be free of this place. Tell no one you are leaving, not even Etienne,” Raymond explained. “For tonight I shall accept my father’s proposals so as not to raise suspicions. I am already aware that some people in the village know about us. My father cannot know.” 

You looked up at Raymond, seeing the fear in his expression. This man had never shown fear before, always having the upper hand of giving out orders and looking down on others from a high place in society. But tonight he genuinely looked terrified at the prospect of what was about to happen. 

“I trust you,” you whispered, taking his gloved hand in both of yours. You cupped his hand and placed it against your cheek. “Don’t be scared.”

“I fear for what he would do,” Raymond said softly. “Do not be deceived by my father’s words of holiness and righteousness. He wears the mask of a pious man to gain the trust of others, but can easily strike without warning. He was the one who caused the death of my mother. He will not take you from me as well.” 

“That’s what makes you and your father opposites. He wears the mask of a good man, hiding his devilish dealings under it. But you hide your goodness under a mask of anger. Don’t get caught up in his games, Raymond. Do what you need to do, but do not rise to his bait. Promise me? I know your temper.” 

Raymond chuckled. 

***

Baron de Merville sat at the head of his main table, his fierce glare watching every figure which exited and entered the hall. Raymond was not amongst them. His son’s presence was paramount at this feast so as the plans of his intended marriage could begin. 

The Baron’s longstanding friend, Perceval of Le Sart, a smaller, neighbouring village, sat proudly alongside his daughter, knowing that this marriage would mean the joining of two powerful names. Lord Perceval’s daughter, Genevieve, was barely out of her teen years, her curves only just dissolving the signs of her ending youth. Her long, chestnut hair was neatly tied into a plait and fell down her back, reaching her waist. 

Raymond entered the hall and all the voices quietened as heads turned towards him. 

The Baron made no attempt to pass pleasantries with his son and grit his teeth as Raymond sat beside him. “You are late,” the Baron growled. 

“I had pressing matters that had to be seen to,” Raymond replied, and grabbed a tumbler of ale from a serving girl as she passed on by. 

The Baron hissed, “As if this is not pressing enough, Raymond!” 

Lord Perceval watched Raymond in amusement, knowing all to well that he was seeing a woman in secret. He could tell the expressions, the secrecy and the flush across Raymond’s cheeks. That flush was not the result of sub zero temperatures, but rather his blood surging from more pleasurable pursuits. 

“Is that him?” Genevieve whispered to her father. The girl looked upon her intended, feeling fear strike her. She had been sheltered and confined to her home all her life by her father, never being able to mix with the men of the village of Le Sart. 

Perceval smirked at his daughter, seeing the fright in her eyes. “This is the best match we could have hoped for. Merville and Le Sart will be united through this marriage.”

“He looks old, Father.” 

Perceval laughed in mockery. “Your mother had only just come of age and started her monthly bleed when we wed, and I had seen war and combat ranging twenty years. Do not be naïve, girl.” 

Raymond looked at the girl intended to be his wife and rolled his eyes. She had barely left her childhood years behind, and he was being expected to marry her, impregnate her and continue on his family name with her. He thought back to you, all woman; firm in the right places, confident in your body, willing to walk and fight beside him. 

***  
You were ready to start a fire for the night and scramble into your bed when a fierce knock came to Etienne’s door. The elderly man, who was still up, carving a piece of wood for Baron de Merville’e mantelpiece, and straining his eyes through a magnifying glass, got up and answered his door. 

Your name was mentioned. You heard it clearly. It was Lucille, one of the many maids from the de Merville estate. “She is needed on duty tonight, to tend to the needs of our guests.” 

“I shall see you later, Papa,” you told Etienne and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. You pulled your cloak in around yourself tight and followed Lucille through the village, watching the snow fall around you both, still only light. 

By the time you had made it to the estate and had prepared to help, breath caught in your throat and you gasped. Was that really the girl that Raymond was supposed to marry? She was young, beautiful and striking in her elegance. It brought a tear to your eye, which you brushed away with a shaking hand. Further down, near the head of the table was your lover. He had seen you as soon as your feet hit the hall floor. 

The Baron watched suspiciously, his gaze drifting between you and Raymond. There was far too much eye contact for his liking. Rumours of Raymond embarking on a secret daily rendezvous had caught his attention two weeks prior, and he had felt in his gut that the woman involved was you. His son had always had a taste for challenges, and due to you appearing in the village so suddenly, it was only natural that Raymond would attempt seduction. 

The evening was painful. You remained true to your duties, serving the dozens of guests who were all seated in the hall. Some of the men attempted to touch you, but you moved swiftly, offering a smirk as you disappeared. 

“May I have more ale?” a voice came. The only one who had asked you politely. Every other voice had been a demand, pressuring you to serve as quickly as possible. 

You looked down into the eyes of your Raymond. 

The Baron noticed you hovering next to Raymond a few seconds longer than the other men. There was something in his son’s eyes, a warmth. Sensitivity. 

“Thank you,” Raymond whispered, and ever so gently, he brushed his hand against yours. Your touch was hidden beneath the table. 

Perceval and the Baron exchanged glances, silent agreement that they had noticed both yours and Raymond’s behaviour. There was no doubt in their minds that the focus of Raymond’s affections was you. 

Whilst you continued carrying out your duties, serving the men of the hall, the Baron called over one of his guards. “Watch her,” he instructed, motioning his head towards you. “We may have means to incarceration.” 

Lucille, fellow serving girl, and friend of yours heard the words from the Baron. She could see the middle-aged man’s eyes studying you and then glancing at Raymond. Only an idiot would not have been aware of your affair with the Baron’s son. Lucille managed to finally get across the room towards you a few minutes later after serving Perceval’s daughter of a plate of food. 

“You need to be careful,” Lucille told you, standing beside you as you filled another tumbler of ale from a barrel in the kitchen. “Baron de Merville ordered a guard to watch your movements. Everyone knows of you and Raymond. He threatens to imprison you.” 

A hard lump rose in your throat and terror hit your chest, but you thought of Raymond, your means of strength. “I need to get a message to him. You’re the only one I can trust, Lucille, and Etienne.” 

More serving girls entered the large, stone kitchen, their eyes studying you and Lucille. They chattered amongst themselves, laughing and whispering, before disappearing back out into the main hall. 

“I shall tell Raymond what I have heard, my friend. You can always trust me,” Lucille told you, gripping your arm in reassurance. 

“Thank you, Lucille. Tell him that I plan to begin packing tonight for leaving the village.”

“Where will you go?” 

“Raymond will know. We need to get back to work. Tell him what has been said and that I will leave tonight.” 

***  
Raymond sat beside his father for the remainder of the evening, committing only to small talk with Genevieve. His disinterest in the girl was apparent, and his eyes would keep shifting away to find you. 

However, not long before midnight and Lucille appeared at Raymond’s side, the side most distant from the Baron. 

“She is being watched by your father’s guards, and she plans to leave tonight,” Lucille whispered to Raymond as she leaned forward, filling his tankard with more ale. 

Raymond had to find you. He remained seated for a couple more minutes as not to arouse suspicion that Lucille had spoken to him. Raymond’s eyes caught sight of you standing with a few other serving girls, waiting on their next command. All of you were stood in a row at the entrance to the hall, your hands behind your backs; you were on the left hand side, at the end. The night seemed to be wearing down now to a natural close. 

You watched him get up from his seat and approach the entrance to the hallway, the whole way his father and Perceval watching. 

Raymond approached you, his eyes never leaving you. “Outside. Five minutes,” he whispered, never stopping or leaning towards you. 

The Baron and Perceval seemed to have stopped studying you so avidly and turned back to their conversation. However, you could sense someone watching you, and looked across to see a guard on the other side of the room. Was he the one that Lucille had warned you of? He had a menacing look in his eyes, a look of potential harm. Shivers raced down your spine and nausea hit your stomach. Once you were with Raymond then you would be the safest you could be. 

Whilst you felt no one was watching and all attention had turned away, you exited the hall and walked towards the front door of the estate, making your way out. The snow was falling heavy now, becoming deeper on the ground, burying the land beneath a white sheet. 

“Go ahead of me,” a voice came. “Do not turn around. Keep going. I shall be with you shortly. Go to the barn.” 

Raymond’s voice stayed with you as you kept on walking, trying hard to overcome to the urge to turn around and look at him. On the way towards the barn and you prayed, begging for both of you to be able to leave safely. 

Back at the estate and Raymond waited by the door, and only two minutes after you had disappeared into the snowy night, the Baron’s head guard, Auben exited. He stopped, surveying the scene before him. Raymond remained around the corner, watching as Auben inspected the snow and footprints leading out. 

Raymond followed on behind Auben, keeping behind him just far enough that he could not be heard. The high gusts of wind made sure that no other noise could be heard beyond it. 

You sat down on a bale of hay towards the back of the barn, shaking in fright and cold. The wood all around you of the structure creaked and moaned under the weight of the snow and the high winds. 

Outside the barn and Raymond sliced through Auben’s throat, satisfied that at least one of those intent on harming you was now dead. He dragged the dead body into the barn, kicking the door open, and making you jump in the process. 

“We need to go now,” Raymond called to you, instantly spotting you. “I’ll get a horse. Make sure you are clothed well.” 

Whilst Raymond took a horse from one of the stalls, knowing that you couldn’t ride one on your own, you grabbed a blanket and cloak which had been left by one of the other serving girls, and pulled them around yourself. 

The brown mare neighed as it was taken from its stall and Raymond began strapping a saddle and reins onto it. You approached Raymond, and put your head down. “I’m sorry,” you told him. 

Raymond’s head shot around, and his eyes burned into yours. “Why be sorry?” he asked, shocked and angered by your apology. 

“This is all through me. You’re leaving your home, facing consequences of going against your father…”

Raymond cut you off by placing a kiss against your lips and winding his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You both sank into the kiss, feeling the warmth radiate through you. 

“I would face any consequence for you. Never apologise for this. My home is no longer here,” he told you, drawing away. “Now get up into the saddle.” 

You did as you were instructed and clambered up into the saddle, Raymond’s hands firmly against you, pushing you up. As you steadied yourself awkwardly in the saddle, your feet twisting into the stirrups, you felt Raymond gracefully rise up and sit behind you. His arms reached around you, grabbed the reins and you both set off into the snow. 

Snow hit you hard in the face, accompanied by a biting, northerly wind. You bowed your head, hoping that it would help keep snow out of your face, but the action was futile. Snowflakes and wind still hit you hard, and amazingly, Raymond kept the horse galloping in a general straight line. 

Until, suddenly, just as you were about to reach the river, you heard shouts on the air. A line of five mounted guards were before you, their swords raised in one hand and torches in the other. “Stop!” they demanded. 

You grabbed Raymond’s hand, gripping it tight. “No,” you sobbed. 

“Sir Raymond de Merville, you are to be incarcerated under command of Baron de Merville. You defied his orders…”

“Fuck my father’s orders!” Raymond spat. 

“The woman before you shall face execution…” the head of the group continued on listing the charges against you and Raymond. 

Raymond growled and dragged his sword from its scabbard, angling it away from your head and lifted it high. “You shall have to kill me first.”

Tears fell down your cheeks as you knew your fate would be death for loving Raymond. “Don’t, Raymond,” you whispered. “Let them take me in. I have nothing to hide. If they take me then they spare you.” 

You felt the horse step backwards as Raymond’s hands pulled on the reins gently. “If they dare take your life then they take me as well,” Raymond hissed. “I will not stand down!” he shouted. 

One of the guards stepped forward on his black horse. “Raymond, see reason. Is this woman worth giving your life for? She is nothing.” The guard was the same age as Raymond, in fact being one of the boys he had grown up alongside in Rouen. 

“You know me well enough by now, Lucas. I am all or nothing. And if you dare to dishonour her with such words again then I shall cut your throat and rip out your tongue.” 

Suddenly, an arrow hit Lucas square in the chest, throwing him off his horse. You jumped in sheer shock, and then watched as one by one, the other four men began to grow terrified. And then more arrows came, two at a time, taking out the remainder of the guards. 

Raymond’s head spun around, trying to look for those that were assisting you in your escape, but the snow was too heavy. Whoever had shot your enemies owned a hawk’s eye, and had no doubt been guided by the light of the torches. 

Without any further words, Raymond charged the horse on ahead through the trees, leaving the guards to die in the snow, choking on their own blood. 

In a clearing stood two figures, holding each other’s hands, and holding a bow in the other. “I hope they find the life they both deserve,” Lucille told Henri.


End file.
